Lord of the Rings - War in the East - Chapter 1
by HaleR130
Summary: Five Wizards were sent to Middle Earth to aid the Free Peoples in their fight against Sauron. You know three: Saruman, Gandalf, and Radagast. The other two traveled to the East, never to be heard from again. But without the help of the two Blue Wizards, the War would not have been won. This is the story of the Blue Wizards.


CHAPTER 1 - Journey to Red Mountain

Morinehtar fell to his knees in the sand, clutching at his forehead. Romestamo managed to stay standing, leaning on his staff for support, furiously blinking away his clouded vision. And as suddenly as the feeling came, it was gone.

"What-"

"What was that? My dear Morinehtar, I haven't the slightest."

The two Wizards composed themselves.

"That had to be Sauron. Such a wave of power... I wonder at what evil he has wrought, to disturb the world so. But we cannot falter now. We must trust in the strength of will and arms of our brethren to the West. The other Wizards will have to hold that front. They have their duty, and we have ours. Come now, Morinehtar. Our journey has been long, and we must travel further yet."

The Wizards continued on their way. Sand enveloped the visible landscape, as it had for weeks. And it stayed that way for weeks more.

At one point, Romestamo held out his arm to block the other Wizard. He pointed off to the distance, even further East. "Those are not sand dunes. Those are the Red Mountains! There should be Dwarves there. And see where the mountains first begin to rise into the sky? We're at the northern end."

"Interesting," mused Morinehtar. "So we should be near the Ironfist Dwarves and their Fortress of Dharzlum, if memory serves. A pity. They have quite a reputation for being war-hungry fanatics. I hoped to negotiate with the Ironfists last, if at all. And yet, if Sauron is to be defeated, we need to enlist all the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth."

Morinehtar gazed at the tall peaks. "Let us hope Sauron has not come this way. The Dwarves are a resilient people, but I shudder to think what would happen should Morgoth's Servant turn his eye here."

"We are nearing the end of this journey. I fear a far larger one is ahead."

Morinehtar nodded his agreement. "We may be here a while. The Dark Lord will not leave Middle-Earth of his own will."

The Blue Wizards continued walking until they approached the foot of the Red Mountains. "I've heard precious little of Dwarves, save that they burrow deep underground. The entrances to their citadels are hidden to outsiders, if I remember correctly. Romestamo, how shall we find them?"

The Wizard, upon hearing his name, smiled. "Like this." He raised his staff to the sky, and stabbed it into the sand. Hard. Sand shifted and flowed all about as the ground shook, racked with tremors. "The Dwarves live in, and underneath, the mountain, do they? I think they'll feel that visitors are knocking at the door. So to speak."

Hours passed. The Wizards leaned against a few jagged rocks worn smooth by centuries of abrasive sandstorms. They waited. And waited. And talked of their journey thus far. And waited. The sun was preparing its departure of the sky when the Wizard's knock was answered.

A swath of rock at the foot of the Red Mountains, twice the height of the Wizards and as wide as it was tall, seemingly pushed itself out of the mountain, falling flat into the sand with a dull thud. It spewed displaced sand everywhere as it fell, and sank slowly into the ground under its own weight, making a rather convenient walkway out of the mountain.

Dwarves, gemstone-braided hair and beards glinting in the remnants of the sunlight, poured through the hole in the rock two abreast and forty front to back. The Wizards leapt off their rocks, more surprised than frightened. The Dwarf contingent formed in a crescent around the strangers.

"Shield wall!" cried one. In unison, the Dwarves planted their broad shields firmly in the sand, forming a metal barrier through which the Wizards could neither attack nor escape. "Dor! Gumin! Fall out!" Two Dwarves obeyed, breaking the shield wall. In that gap walked a Dwarf, braided as the others, but sporting armor that gleamed more than silver or steel in the sun. It was brilliantly reflective, to the point of blinding the Wizards for a short time.

The Dwarf spoke. "What manner of creatures are you? You are not dressed as the Easterling Men, nor the Southrons, nor are you tall or fair as Elves. Speak, or I'll have your tongues cut out and you can use runes to tell me where you are from!"

The Wizards had expected a greeting as warm as this, particularly from the Ironfists. Morinehtar spoke. "I might ask you the same. I assume you are a Dwarf. From what little I know, you are a Dwarf, although I've yet to see one before now. And these Easterling Men you speak of, we have not encountered them in our travels. Nor the Southrons" The Blue Wizard grew somber. "We are but tired old Men, come to see what little of the world we can before we pass."

The Dwarf tugged his beard, fiddling with one of the gems, thinking. "Fitholi," he called. A young Dwarf approached the older one. Fitholi let the other Dwarf whisper in his ear, at which point he promptly ran into the tunnel. Fitholi's footsteps echoed for a few long minutes, the only sound in that time. Neither group broke the silence. Rigid and unmoving were the Dwarves, and clearly trained well.

Romestamo opened his mouth, but was cut off. "No, do not speak. I sent a messenger to the King. He alone can grant you access to his Kingdom. But we will wait for his reply in silence."

The reply was heralded by the echoing of mail boots rhythmically tapping on the stone floor of the tunnel. Wheezing and coughing, the Dwarf messenger stumbled out of the passage. Fitholi approached the Dwarf in charge, and whispered his answer as well as he could given that he could barely draw breath.

The lead Dwarf frowned, brow furrowed. "Welcome," he said cautiously, "to the Fortress of Dharzlum, home of my people, the Ironfist Dwarves. My father, King Tumin extends his greetings, and wishes to meet you with all haste. As for myself, I am Prince Thraes, son of Tumin, heir to the Skeletal Throne of Dharzlum. Come now, through the passage. Dor, Gumin, lead the way."

Thraes extended his arm to halt the Wizards. "I almost forgot. You did not answer my question. I still wish to know your names. Come to think of it, what did you do to make the ground quake?"

"Ah," said Romestamo. "First, we have no names worth mentioning. And second... well, fate has an interesting way of intervening in the lives of mortals. Look at me! I am old by the standards of Men. I cannot so much as wrestle one of your Dwarves to the ground. Do you really think I could make the ground shake? And if I had that sort of power, do you think I would have let myself be surrounded and interrogated, as I was just now?"

Thraes dropped both issues. "I suppose not." Turning back toward the tunnel, he ordered, "Dor, Gumin. Continue."

As the Blue Wizards entered the tunnel, two Dwarves ahead and flanked by many more, Morinehtar whispered in a tongue foreign to the Dwarves, "Well done."

Romestamo smiled. "We still have a long ways to go."


End file.
